General InformationFull name: Declan Kelly
Nickname: Irish, Dec, DK
Occupation: Owner of Sitamet Power Gym
Education: High School
Marital Status: Single
Eyes: Hazel (So depending on what he wears his eyes change color)
Body Type: Athletic
Tattoos/Piercings: Tattoos on both arms and left leg/Pierced ears and lip
Blood Type: A+
Likes: Food, all the ladies
Dislikes: The sun! He's a ginger, it's to be expected. Hypocrites, fake people
Hobbies: working out
Habits: Eats junk food more often than he should. He's a smoker too. Not enough to be addicted, but it's a nasty habit to have.
Grandmother: Roisin "Nan" Kelly
Uncle: Nathan Kelly
Sister: Nessa Kelly
Partner/Spouse etc: None
Powers and Abilities
Dominance Level: Three
These wolves exhibit more primary and obvious dominant characteristics in relation to other Werewolves.
Partial Shift: With this ability/power, the Werewolf can partially shift select parts of their bodies into animal or half animal form. The most common use of this power is the ability to partially shift the Werewolf's hands into animal claws for combat.
Bites on lower lip when he is nervous.
Always knows the direction he is traveling
Writes with left hand, but does everything else right-handed.
Randomly leans in to people and smells their hair, it's a weird quirk
Has "Resting Asshole" face
Rolls his shoulder before throwing a punch the muscles get kinda tense
Declan was seen running naked through the town early in the morning.
Roisin Kelly, or Nan as they've always called her, moved to the United States to escape the hunters that were after her and her family. Roisin took her grandchildren as far away as she could afford, hoping they had escaped the horrors that befell an abundance of werewolves in their home town. And it seemed, for a time, that they were safe.
Declan always knew that there was a chance that he could be a lycan, for his grandmother was one and his father and the Kelly blood ran strong through his veins. He had listened to the stories from his grandmother. Stories about the old days, and about how their people who migrated from place to place, how some still roamed, looking for that one place to call their home. Declan was a small boy of four when they moved to escape the hunters that were after them so he didn't remember much.
Roisin raised her grandchildren well and taught them all that they needed to know about their family, their lineage, and what each of them had a chance to become.
When it came time for him to hit puberty, he was somewhat ready for the change. Somewhat. . .Knowing about it never truly prepares you. How can someone be prepared physically for a shift without first experienced the pain of all your bones breaking at once? Well, there are some stunt men who can tell you, but it's nothing really like your first shift. Not of the mental scarring, or the excruciating pain. Sure, it got easier with time, but the pain never lessened.
But that was all he had now. Stories. Stories of his family. He was a lucky one, his grandmother had told him once when he was a teenager. "You're the lucky one. Times were different now. Less hunters abound, Our people can be free to live without much worry." Both of his parents were taken out by hunters. His father for obvious reasons, and his mother, well, she was guilty by association, even if she wasn't a were, sometimes you suffered as if you were one.
Now it was just him and his sister, and his Nan. the rest of their family was gone now. Nan's words sounded in his head. "You're the lucky one. . ." He shook his head and scoffed. He was the lucky one? "Lucky my ass." He said as he dropped the cigarette he was smoking to the ground and stubbed it out with his shoe. Grateful, yes. Fortunate to have had someone teach him, of course. But he didn't consider himself lucky at all.